rgy, even if it does not undermine his character, and leave him a
curse rather than a blessing to those who brought him into the world.

And it is scarcely safer to leave the money to a daughter. For, if a
young woman has a prospective inheritance so large that, when a young
man calls upon her, she cannot tell whether he is calling upon her
or her father, it is embarrassing--especially so if she finds after
marriage that he married the wrong member of the family. And, I may add,
that the daughters of the very rich are usually hedged about by a social
environment which prevents their making the acquaintance of the best
young men. The men who, twenty-five years from now, will be the leaders
in business, in society, in government, and in the Church, are not the
pampered sons of the rich, but the young men who, with good health and
good habits, with high ideals and strong ambition, are, under the spur
of necessity, laying the foundation for future achievements, and these
young men do not have a chance to become acquainted with the daughters
of the very rich. Even if they did know them they might hesitate to
enter upon the scale of expenditure to which these daughters are
accustomed.

I have dealt at length with these fixed limitations, although we all
know of them or ought to. The ministers tell us about these things
Sunday after Sunday, or should, and yet we find men chasing the almighty
dollar until they fall exhausted into the grave. Dr. Talmage dealt with
this subject; he said that a man who wore himself out getting money that
he did not need, would finally drop dead, and that his pastor would
tell a group of sorrowing friends that, by a mysterious dispensation of
Providence, the good man had been cut off in his prime. Dr. Talmage said
that Providence had nothing to do with it, and that the minister ought
to tell the truth about it, and say that the man had been kicked to
death by the golden calf.

Some years ago I read a story by Tolstoy, and I did not notice until
I had completed it that the title of the story was, "What shall it
profit?" The great Russian graphically presented the very thought that
I have been trying to impress upon your minds. He told of a Russian who
had land hunger--who added farm to farm and land to land, but could
never get enough. After a while he heard of a place where land was
cheaper and he sold his land and went and bought more land. But he had
no more than settled there until he heard of